


Captured Moments

by RainbowArches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, corny fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five pictures Andrew takes of Melinda in Hawaii (before the last one).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured Moments

Andrew expects Melinda to be in the shower or ordering room service when he wakes up, but she’s not. She’s still here, lying next to him, asleep. He’s never awake before her. She’s usually dressed when he sees her in the morning. He doesn’t get out of bed until she starts pounding out obnoxious songs on the piano or threatens to make him pancakes. It takes a lot less to get him out of bed if there’s a mission. He’ll join her in the shower, cook for her, share the paper. They share every moment, just in case.

He runs his fingers down her arm. That was before. There’s no mission this time, and there won’t be again if they just stay in bed.

The sun’s shining on her through the window. It’s like she’s glowing. He reaches for his phone.

“Don’t even think about it,” she says, her eyes still closed but sounding very much awake.

“One day I will get you by surprise.” He moves in and kisses her shoulder.

She leans into him, turning to rest her head on his chest. “You have a long wait.”

He nudges her until she reaches up and kisses him.

“Ugh. Really?” She grumbles when she hears the click.

Andrew laughs and shows her the picture.

“Hm. You’re a better photographer than you are a spy.” She’s smiling, though, unable to dial it back. Andrew’s barely in the frame, and Melinda’s face is barely featured save for her chin. Her hair just reaches the sheet that’s fallen a little lower as she reaches up. The sun’s shining on them, making everything golden.

“You telling me I didn’t get the drop on you just then?”

She pats his cheek. “Sure you did.”

 

She’s looking at scarves, talking and laughing with the woman selling them. He’ll have to go over there in a minute, or she’ll be there all day. Something about scarves and purses. She loves shopping for them but she can never convince herself to buy one if she doesn’t really _need_ one. That’s Andrew’s job. And then she’ll want to buy one for her mom too.

He’s at another kiosk close by, buying sandals. When he looks back at Melinda she’s holding a light pink scarf and running her fingers over it as though it had obtained immense sentimental value in the ten seconds she’s known it.  It’s when she unfolds it and holds it up to see it properly, and the decision that it’s hers shows in her expression, that he takes the picture.

“I saw that,” she says when he’s close enough to hear.

“I know you did.”

She pays for the scarf and he holds her hair up so that she can put it on.

“You need one for your mom now too.”

 

They’re slightly drunk and stuck in the elevator. They’re not bothered at all though, because it’s just the two of them and they’re feeling silly and mushy, and they can kiss and be as disgusting as they want.

Andrew is holding his phone out of reach from Melinda, who’s trying to grab it from him.

“Let me take your picture,” she keeps saying, grinning and breathless from jumping for it and giggling.

“You can’t. It doesn’t work on me. It only takes your picture.”

She stands on her toes, putting one hand on his shoulder to give herself a boost, and reaches for it again. It makes him lose his balance and he stumbles backwards. She falls with him and they end up sliding down the wall onto the floor, laughing.

He’s sober enough that he knows he needs a picture of her sheer abandon, so he takes one. She’s sprawled on the floor, head tilted back, face lit up through her laughter by a big toothy smile that reaches her eyes. He shows it to her. “Gotcha.”

“I still want a picture of you.”

He makes a face at the camera- eyes scrunched shut and his tongue sticking out- and takes a picture of himself. “There you go.”

She grins at it, taps selfie-Andrew’s nose with her finger. “It’s beautiful. I’m keeping that one in my wallet.”

They cheer as the elevator starts to move again.

 

“Seriously? This looks like a good picture to you?” Melinda asks around a mouthful of crab cake.

“Yep,” he says, beaming. He shows her the picture.

“I have to hand it to you; you do make me stuffing my face look attractive.”

“It’s the candle light. But also eating is attractive.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Careful now. Don’t step on my soap box.”

He tucks his phone back in his pocket, leans back and yawns. “Think I need a nap before I go to bed,” he says.

She picks up the bottle of wine and tops off his glass. “Have a nightcap.”

“Trying to loosen me up?” He asks, smirking at her.

“What? It’s expensive. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it. You may have to carry me back to the hotel though.”

“You think I can’t?”

“I’m sure you can. Will you?”

She gives a put-upon sigh. “If I must.”

 

The beach is surprisingly calm this afternoon. They’re lying in the sand, so close to the water that it laps at their toes. Melinda has that dreamy expression that’s appeared more times these past few weeks than in the entire time he’s known her. She looks like she could fall asleep any second, so he takes her picture now while she’s still looking at him like that.

She huffs, too sleepy to laugh out loud. “I’m going to take that away from you.”

“You may have to. I used up most of my space on palm trees and sky lines.”

“And dinner.”

“Hey. Those were extremely photogenic dinners.”

“You’re such an artist,” she teases.

“You’re such a diva.”

She pulls a face at him before moving in to kiss him. He keeps his arms around her so that she stays, her head on his chest, her fingernails scratching him gently.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

“Don’t start, you sap.”

He presses a kiss to her head. “No. Really.”

He can’t see her smile but he feels it. “Thank you for taking me with you,” she says.

 


End file.
